


Bang Me Harder, Bahamut

by spacehopper



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 05:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13496080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/pseuds/spacehopper
Summary: Prompto has a secret love for Astral roleplay porn. Luckily, Gladio’s happy to help out.





	Bang Me Harder, Bahamut

“Hey, where’s my pizza?” A beefy, shirtless man bellowed out the door. Suddenly he was bowled back by some impressively bad wind effects, landing on the shabby couch with his fly miraculously open. 

“You have been chosen.” A figure in truly impressive Bahamut cosplay entered the room. “To receive my divine seed.”

“Holy shit,” the hunk said. The camera zoomed in on the massive dick bulging in his tighty whities. 

“Indeed there will be some holy shit,” Bahamut said. Suddenly the man was naked and bent over the couch. Prompto brought his phone closer to his face.

“What’re you watching?” Noct said.

Prompto yelped, dropping the phone and kicking it behind him. 

“Nothing,” he said, hoping the screen shut off.

“Bang me harder, Bahamut!” The words issued from the phone, followed by a deep groan. Noct’s eyes widened. 

“I don’t even want to know.” He turned on his heel and headed back into camp, leaving Prompto hunched in the nook he’d found at the base of the haven. It was so hard getting alone time here. But it least it was Noct. He’d take it to his grave. It could’ve been way worse, Ignis, or Gladio, or—

“Kweh?” The chocobo blinked innocently at him, then picked his phone up in its beak. It bobbed up and down, darting its gaze from side to side. 

“No,” Prompto moaned, flinging a hand towards it in desperation. 

His phone moaned in response. Then the chocobo was off, kicking hard against the rocks around Prompto and shifting them, forcing him deeper into the crevice. 

“Why would you betray me like this?” he yelled after it, struggling to free himself. He was small, sure, but not this small. So here he was. Stuck in the rocks and his phone had been stolen by a chocobo. Could it get any worse? He slumped back, then wiggled again, wedging himself deeper. Which really wasn’t helping his aching dick, the fabric of his pants rubbing against it. Fuck, he needed to get out of here. 

But while he was waiting—

He scanned the dark landscape around him, but it was empty. Keeping an eye out for any potential approach, he carefully unfastened his pants, fumbling around until he was finally able to wrap his hand around his dick. He was going to have an awful cramp in his arm, but he really didn’t care. He needed to get this out, now. 

Closing his eyes and tipping his head back, he starting to get into a rhythm. He twisted his wrist just right, getting the perfect friction. Just a little more. 

“Plunge your sacred sword into my flesh! Harder! Deeper!”

Crap. 

He quickly tucked his dick back into his pants, whimpering as it brushed against the fabric. But even the thought of a chocobo beak near his sensitive parts was horrifying. And he really did need to get his phone back.

He looked up hopefully, but there wasn’t a single yellow feather to be seen. He swallowed. No, it was Gladio walking towards him, phone in hand. 

“Seems you go yourself into a tight spot,” he said with a grin. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Why wasn’t he wearing a shirt? 

“Your mortal flesh is tight around my seraphic rod,” boomed Bahamut. Prompto winced. But maybe Gladio would be a good bro. Maybe he’d let it go. 

“What’re you waiting for, a celestial sledgehammer?” Gladio set the phone on a nearby rock and crossed his arms over his chest. Which unfortunately covered his incredibly impressive chest, but did display the muscles in his arms nicely. Shit, was he really thinking this? About his friend? 

Gladio would make a good Bahamut. He could see it now, tail trailing out from under magnificent shining armor, sword in hand, face covered by an intimidating helm. Which would add an extra dimension to Gladio’s already deep voice. 

Prompto adjusted his arms so they covered the growing bulge in his jeans. This was already awkward, no need for Gladio to get any wrong ideas. Because they were definitely wrong. Super wrong. 

But wasn’t it the wrong stuff that really made things hot? Like that one where Ifrit had sucked off Titan. Asstrals Reborn, it’d been called. Great series. Banned as profane and subversive material, and to Prompto it’d been a revelation. But not the point, because right now the point was digging into his ass. And not in a sexy way.

“Please help?” Prompto said, unable to keep the slightly desperate whine from his voice. What if Gladio left him here? He wasn’t sure if the fact he’d have to sleep here or jerk off like this was worse. 

Gladio snorted. “Should leave you there, might teach you a lesson.” But he still wrapped two massive hands on the rock pinning Prompto, straining to pull it free. His muscles bulged, and Prompto licked his lips. Then Gladio heaved, and threw the stone to the side, where it landed with a thud in the grass. He offered his hand to Prompto. It was so large, warm. What would it feel like, pushing Prompto down, like Bahamut in the video?

“Got another problem there,” Gladio said, looking significantly at his dick. Prompto squirmed under his gaze. This was why he didn’t want Gladio here. He’d never live it down. “Want some help?”

No, Gladio would tease him, and then Iggy’d know too, and Iggy would judge him, more than he already did, and Prompto would have to wear a bag over his head forever.

Wait.

“What?” He can’t have heard that right. Gladio took another step forward, and Prompto was suddenly super aware of their height difference. He was tiny. Gladio could crush him.

It was so hot. 

“You serious? I mean, Iggy and Noct—” He glanced up at the camp.

“You traumatized Noct for life. Iggy’s comforting him.” From the way he rolled his eyes, he didn’t think much of Noct’s need for comfort, but that was Gladio for you. Tough love. 

Would Gladio be rough? Not painful, no, but just the right amount of pressure, firm commanding—

Nope. Stopping now.

“Great,” Prompto said. Noct would never forgive him.

“Wanna traumatize him some more?” Gladio said. This time his grin was positively evil. Bit more Ifrit than Bahamut, but Prompto’d always liked Ifrit. 

He licked his lips. Taking it, specifically Gladio, all in. How big was Gladio? As big as the guy playing Bahamut? His mouth watered. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. If Noct killed him, at least he’d die happy. 

Of course now he was stuck with the question of what to do next. Should he undress? Wait for Gladio? There was still time to run away. 

Gladio summoned his greatsword and swung in in an arc, leveling it at Prompto’s throat. Prompto squeaked. 

“You must prove yourself worthy of Bahamut,” he said, tone unusually flat. Prompto gaped at him. Then it clicked. Roleplay. Right. He could do this. What’d Gladio be looking for?

Hell, what he was always looking for. A fight.

Prompto pulled his pistol from the Armiger, making sure it was loaded with blanks. Then he leveled it at Gladio.

“I am worthy of—” Crap what should he say next? “—your godly greatsword!” He fired a shot and dove to the side, rolling into the grass. He didn’t even hurt himself. Not bad. 

Gladio burst out laughing, and Prompto was counting that as a victory, because it meant he’d lowered his guard. He fired another shot, and Gladio straightened his posture and his face. He raised his sword and strode towards Prompto, looking rather like a deity bent on destroying him.

Luckily, Prompto really wanted to be destroyed. 

“You will face my divine retribution,” he said, pitching his voice even lower than normal. 

“I won’t go down without a fight,” Prompto said, scrambling until his back hit the rock. He tried to look serious, determined, steely. Like Iggy. Dude almost never smiled. Be Iggy. 

He stared up into Gladio’s eyes, and the sword disappeared.

“I deem you worthy,” Gladio said, then leaned down to kiss Prompto, biting at his lips until they parted and thrusting his tongue between them. Prompto melted under the assault, Gladio’s gloriously muscled arm behind his back the only thing keeping him from dissolving into a puddle. 

Prompto bit back a yelp as Gladio picked him up like he weighed nothing. Which, compared to Gladio, he pretty much did. He deposited Prompto on a large, mostly flat stone. Prompto, never one to be left behind, tossed his shirt aside without a second thought. 

“Time is short, because, uh.” Gladio clearly hadn’t prepared a script beforehand. “I must depart to guide the True King along his destined path.”

Translation: eventually Noct would wonder what was taking them so long. Which was a bit of a downer, but Prompto did appreciate the effort to stay in character. And fast or not, he sure as hell wasn’t stopping now. 

As Prompto laid back on the cool stone, trying not to shiver, Gladio pulled a bottle out of his pocket, setting it next to Prompto on the stone. Oh, lube. Awesome. But it was making this super real. They were really going to fuck on a rock in the wilderness.

Prompto almost groaned. Gladio was always trying to get him to appreciate the great outdoors. He’d finally found Prompto’s weakness.

“Bahamut is always prepared,” Gladio said with a straight face. Prompto made a note to never play him in poker. He propped himself up on his elbows, admiring the view. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Gladio shirtless before. He lost his shirt every chance he got. But it was different somehow.

“Oof,” Prompto said, as Gladio pressed him down, then began to work on unfastening his pants. Yeah, this was different. The view was much more up close. Personal. Prompto’s hand hovered over his pec.

“Stop being a wimp and touch it,” Gladio said, grunting with effort as Prompto’s zipper caught. He knew he should’ve thrown these pants away, but they were lucky. Really lucky, apparently. Since he was getting lucky.

“Bahamut’s been spending too much time at the bars,” Prompto said, running his fingers over divine muscle, enjoying the way Gladio twitched under his hands. Finally he managed to defeat the zipper, and tugged Prompto’s pants down, taking his underwear with them.

He reached for his dick, aching hard, but Gladio batted his hand away. 

“Bahamut commands patience,” he said. Prompto whimpered, but let his hand drop to his side. 

Gladio was staring at him, frowning. Was he rethinking this? Was he going to leave Prompto here, hard as a rock and mostly naked? Gladio could be a jerk, but he wasn’t that bad, was he?

“Uh,” he said. Two large hands wrapped around Prompto’s hips. “Supplicate yourself at the altar.” 

What? 

But he didn’t need to worry about understanding, because Gladio was happy to manhandle him, dragging him off the rock and turning him onto his stomach, leaving him kneeling, torso still splayed on it. So that he could—oh. Yeah. That’d work. 

“You cool with this?” Gladio’s body pressed against his back, deliciously hot. 

“Bang me harder, Bahamut,” Prompto said. He was bright red, he knew, but the startled laugh from Gladio was worth it. As was the sound of a zipper. 

“I have practiced many moons to take your holy sword,” Prompto said. He hoped Glado got the message. No need to dither around, he’d been dying for something like this for ages, and had the sex toys to prove it. 

“Hard work pays off,” Gladio said, not sounding at all like Bahamut. But Prompto didn’t care, because from the slight pop and the indrawn breath, he’d gotten the lube out. 

“Ah,” Prompto said, grinding against the stone. Ouch. Dick on stone wasn’t pleasant, but he needed something. Now. 

A finger pressed lightly against his ass, all the warning he had before something much, much larger brushed against him. He swallowed hard, trying to twist around, crane his head to get a better look. But a firm hand on his back held him in place. He shuddered and closed his eyes. It was almost better this way, just getting to feel it, not look. 

“You are not worthy to look on mighty Bahamut,” Gladio said. Which was stupid, and cheesy, and hot. Prompto closed his eyes, doing his best to relax as Gladio slowly pushed into him.

Despite ample solo practice and plenty of lube, Gladio was still huge, stretching Prompto in a way that was just on the right side of painful. His fingers scrabbled against the rock, trying to find something to hold onto as he hissed. A large hand wrapped around his, and he clutched to gratefully as Gladio pressed even deeper. He stopped moving, grunting and pushing harder against Prompto’s back. His muscles relaxed, the pain disappearing, leaving him instead wonderfully full. But Gladio still wasn’t moving.

“You gonna get your Ass-tral moving?” Prompto said. He bucked against Gladio for emphasis, whining when Gladio’s hand on his hip held him still.

“Mortals have no patience,” Gladio said. He thrust in once, slowly. Prompto tried again to force the pace, but Gladio was far stronger than him. It was pointless. “But should they comply, they will be give most, uh, bounteous gifts.”

It seemed like all that reading Gladio did came in handy. Actually, what sort of books _was_ he reading? Prommpto’d sort of assumed it was action stuff, buff dudes running around blowing things up, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Gladio thrust in again, at a leisurely pace, and Prompto almost cried. His dick was barely brushing the rock, and he’d been hard for what seemed like forever now. The full feeling was great, but he wanted more, wanted movement, wanted Gladio to touch him, hold him. But patience was hard.

And Gladio wasn’t really a patient guy. 

He’d been going about this all wrong.

Grabbing the hand Gladio had on his, he wrapped it around his dick, then bucked against him again, harder this time. Gladio groaned. 

“Got some fight in you,” he said, as Prompto moved against him again. This time, when he grabbed Prompto’s hips, he didn’t hold him still, instead guiding him into the rhythm of his thrusts. He lost Gladio’s hand, but he barely cared, his own shaking fingers stroking his erection as Gladio set a punishing pace. 

“Somebody had to move things along,” Prompto said, then gasped as Gladio adjusted the angle, hitting his prostate. “Fuck.”

“Damn right.” Gladio grunted, shifting Prompto to make the angle easier to hit. Not very godlike, but then again, who knew. Prompto hadn’t talked to Bahamut. Maybe he was like Gladio. 

Everything began to blur after that, shuddering gasps of air between thrusts, sweat dripping onto his back, which should’ve been gross, but really, really wasn’t. Gladio stopped talking, just kept up his steady movements, while Prompto trembled beneath him. 

“You know where Gladio went?” Noct, that was Noct, crap.

“Gotta finish this up,” Gladio said, speeding up. Prompto bit his lip. Probably could use a bit more lube, but at this point, he didn’t care. And anyway, this was more realistic. The Draconian would be hot and rough. Lips pressed against the nape of his neck, and he swallowed hard as Gladio’s hand wrapped around his dick.

“C’mon,” he said. It was rough, and the angle wasn’t ideal, but between the scrape of callouses on Gladio’s hands, and the unrelenting thrusts from behind, it was enough. Prompto almost sobbed as he came, spurting onto the rocks. Which he really hoped didn’t turn out to be some sort of ancient altar. That’d be awkward. 

He tightened around Gladio, who groaned, fisting a hand in Prompto’s hair, messing it up even more than usual. Oh, there was no way Noct was not going to know.

“Damn you’re fine,” Gladio said. Of all things, that made him blush. 

“Don’t think Bahamut would say that,” Prompto said. 

“Fuck Bahamut,” Gladio said, trailing off as he stiffened, coming inside Prompto, who was still tingling from the aftershocks of his own orgasm. Gladio held him for a moment, one arm coming around his chest, the other hand stroking his hair. Then he pulled out with a sigh, dropping to the ground and dragging Prompto into his lap.

“Yeah, that was the point,” Prompto mumbled into his shoulder. It was salty, sticky with sweat. He licked it. Gladio chuckled. 

“Nah, I’m better than Bahamut,” Gladio said. He tugged Prompto in closer, putting his chin on Prompto’s head. He never would’ve figured Gladio for a cuddler, but he couldn’t say he minded.

“Well,” Prompto said. He had to get it out now, or he’d never manage, once the inevitable post-orgasm embarrassment set in. “I guess since Bahamut’s not taking my calls, I could do you instead.”

“Hmm,” Gladio said. “Guess I can fit you in.” Was that innuendo? It definitely felt like innuendo.

They should probably go back up to the haven, but Prompto was warm, and tired, and Gladio was surprisingly comfy for someone so hard looking. Maybe they could just stay down here, sleep under the stars. He bet Gladio’d go for that.

A rustling in the grass, but he ignored it. If something was going to kill them, Gladio would take care of it.

“What the fuck.”

Prompto’s head shot up, taking one look before hiding in Gladio’s shoulder again. 

“Jealous?” Gladio said, his arm tightening around Prompto. Because he could never resist taunting Noct. 

“What? No! I just need some bleach for my brain. I can’t believe, just, you’re sharing a tent.”

“Hell yeah we are,” Gladio said. “Might wanna get some ear plugs, princess.”

Noct made a strangled noise, and from the sound of it, stormed off. Likely to whine to Ignis again. Hopefully that’d make him feel better.

“We are not,” Prompto said firmly. No way was he having sex in earshot of Noct. No matter how funny Gladio thought it was.

“Nah,” Gladio agreed. “But you should’ve seen the look on his face.”

Despite himself, Prompto smiled. Maybe Bahamut really was looking out for him.


End file.
